Life: Getting Through It Together

February 16, 2012
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“Brian, shut up!” I screamed.

“No, you’re the one who got the ball stuck in the tree!” he yelled as he marched from the driveway into the house.

“Mom!” we exclaimed simultaneously.

We had been playing basketball outside, but Brian shot the ball and it hit off the backboard and went in a huge tree that we had next to our driveway.

This was just one of the fights that my brother, Brian, and I had on a daily basis. We had never had the close relationship that is often seen between family members. Maybe it was because we were a girl and boy, or three years apart, but it was probably because we generally just didn’t like each other.

Brian and I played basketball outside against each other a lot, but every time we would just end up in a fight. They were over the littlest things from the music we listened to and the game we played to how much I would stop the game so that I could fix my headband.

My dad got so mad at us one time, and he put us in a room together to work it out, but we just continued the previous fight. My dad also tried the “we can talk this out” method, but that never made a difference either.

My mom never really took part in the fights because she always just left them for my dad to handle. She was just happy all the time and would tell us not to fight.

I was 13 years old when the real battle began. Brian was 16, and it was almost our birthdays because we are exactly three years and a day apart.

I heard my parents in their room downstairs fighting. I knew it couldn’t have been good because I was in my room upstairs hearing their voices.

“Kate, I’m sorry,” said my dad.

“I don’t know what to do!” exclaimed my mom.

What is happening is all I remember thinking at this moment.
Then I heard a sniffling sound coming from my brothers room. I had no idea what was going on with my parents at the time, but I did know something was wrong with my brother and I needed to go see.

I walked to Brian’s room, and he was crying just laying there, and listening to my parents fight. Why is he crying? Does he know more than I do about what is going on? He lifted his head slightly and saw me, but then just put his head back down on his pillow.

“Brian is crying!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. Right when as I said that, the tears that where in my eyes started rushing past my mouth, and dropping to the floor.

My parents stopped and my dad went to talk to my brother while my mom came and talked to me. I’m sure both of them told us that everything would be okay. Of course my brother and I believed this, or wanted it so much to be true that we believed it.

Our lives went on, and the fighting had pretty much stopped. We went out on family dinners more, but Brian and I still had huge fights. I’m pretty sure we were looking starting a war. The neighbors could probably hear us screaming at each other, and they probably thought we were crazy.

Everything was going great, or I myself thought it was going good until one night when parents called for me and my brother to come downstairs. I walked out of my bedroom door, and the first thing I saw was my mom’s face. This is an expression I will never forget. The expression in her eyes said stay strong, but her face had so much more to tell.

What’s going on? Who died? Was there a wreck? Neither of these questions could prepare me for what was about to happen.

I sat down on the coach, and could not think straight because I figured that something happened to someone in my family, or someone I knew had died. Then, my brother came down the stairs, but I don’t think he noticed a difference in my parents.
Both my mom and dad were sitting on the edge of the chairs in our living room, but I didn’t know if it was to be closer to Brian and me, or that they were just that nervous.

“I am so sorry,” my dad said. “You need to know this is not your fault at all.”

What is going on? What is he about to tell us?

“Your mom and I are getting divorced,” my dad solemnly sighed.

My hands immediately went to support my face, and I started bawling. Then I look to my brother and could tell that he was trying extremely hard not to show that he was sad or surprised, but his eyes were watering and his face had started to turn the color of a bright red rose.

That night Brian and I sat together in my room for three hours just talking and wondering what our life would be like from now on. This is when I think we both realized that if we were going to be forced to go through this awful situation, we would get through it together.
We talked about pretty much everything that night not just about the divorce, but just about our lives. We had been at ends our whole life and now we were finally growing on each other, and developing the close relationship we should have. That night I also realized that Brian was the best, most caring person I had ever met, and that he was someone who could be a great role model for me.
Days went by, and I started to notice that Brian was hanging out with his friends less and less, and spending more and more time in his room by himself. I got more distant too, but other than him my friends were the only reason I really wanted to get up in the morning. He slowly began to become the Brian I knew again, but I never found out what was going on with him at the time. We never talked about it and probably never will talk about it, but as long he is ok and happy then so am I.

A few months later, we moved out of our old house and moved to our new houses, and I think this was the time that showed our strong relationship because we remained really close throughout this whole time.
This was a challenge though because we were not always staying together at the same house every night. We are supposed to be with my mom on Mondays and Tuesdays, and with my dad on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and every other weekend. This very seldom happens just because of the fact that my dad is more involved in my volleyball, therefore, I stay with him the majority of the time. I am also a lot closer to my dad, and Brian is closer to my mom.

I think this was particularly hard on me because I knew that he was just a phone call away, but it wasn’t the same. Whenever I was having a bad time with something I couldn’t walk into his room and sit on the floor and just talk to him face to face.

I have no idea how this time was for him, but I do think it tested our relationship in the sense that we could be apart and remain very close.
Now we still talk all the time and tell each other everything, but some things we leave out because we are now both in high school. He has always been someone I respect and look up to, and I pray that won’t change when he goes to college next year. I could not have asked, or wished for anyone better to help me get through the hardest time of my life. He means so much to me, and I know I will always have him to go to for help, advice, or just someone to talk to. I am so proud to call Brian my brother because I know not many people have a sibling to look up to, and say that they are their best friend.

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